


Tangled Web

by mickmess



Category: NASCAR RPF
Genre: Cheating, F/M, Het, Implied Slash, Infidelity, Office Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 10:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2648345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickmess/pseuds/mickmess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when NASCAR's most popular driver and a champion's wife become more than just friends?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Junior and Chandra have a chance meeting at a party.  
> RATING:NC-17  
> CHARACTER: Dale Earnhardt Jr., Chandra Johnson - Chandra POV  
> COMPLETED: 01/01/08

_Lake Norman, NC  
The Johnson Home_

A party. ANOTHER fucking party. I swear to god, they don’t even need a reason anymore. Someone sneezes and they break out the alcohol and blast the music and the next thing I know someone is trying to jump off the roof and into the pool. I don’t know why I put up with this shit. It drives me completely insane every time they all wind up back at the house blasted and wanting to throw some food on the grill. At two in the morning. While the neighbors are trying to sleep. I should stop fighting with him every time he insists on taking the boat out on the lake so they can play with that ridiculous kite tube and try to water ski without any skis on. I should just give up and go hide in the bedroom and then say “I told you so” when someone gets arrested or breaks a neck. Of course, with my luck it’d be MY idiot and then I’d feel like a terrible wife for not trying to stop him or talk him out of something stupid. So here I sit in a deck chair off in a corner, watching to make sure no one does anything too stupid when I’d really like to be curled up in bed sleeping. I mean, sure I’m happy Casey finally won. I’m thrilled that his dry spell is over and it’s great to see him so happy. But really, does the party HAVE to be at our house? He does own his own place, dammit!  
   
“Chani? What’re you doin’ all the way over here? Party’s in the pool!”  
   
I roll my eyes and try to avoid getting dripped on, “No thanks, Ron. Just ate. Half hour rule, remember?”  
   
“Right, right. Well the water’s warm when your time’s up.”

Snort in disgust as Ron Malec, car chief extraordinaire, wobbles off back to the pool where he’d come from moments before to piss in our bushes. Note to self, hide the rest of the Captain Morgan. He’s had more than enough in him for one night. Push myself up off my chair and make my way into the house, sighing softly as I see yet another potted plant knocked over, dirt spilled down the hallway. Fuck it, Jimmie can clean it up in the morning. I can’t be bothered tonight. I’m sick of cleaning up all his damn messes.  
   
Make my way into the kitchen, groaning when I see that the party already blew threw here. Empty bottles of alcohol litter the room, cups still partially filled all over the counters and tables. And what the hell is that in my sink? Wrinkle my nose as the stench of week old rotting…something…wafts through the air. I really can’t take much more of this. They’re like overgrown frat boys and I’m the den mother. I start to clean up out of instinct, stopping dead in my tracks when I hear the kitchen door open. God, haven’t I been tortured enough? All I want is a little peace and-  
   
“…Chandra?”  
   
Look up at the sound of a not-so-unfamiliar southern accent to my right. Standing before me is Dale Earnhardt Jr, face bright red and hands crammed into his pockets. It’s not unusual for him to wind up at these parties, but tonight seems different. He’s sober, for one. He’s still fully clothed, for another.  
   
“Junior? What are you doing here? Figured you’d be off playing with your own crew tonight…” Turn to face him, hands on the counter behind me.  
   
“Yeah, well…stuff happens. Casey invited me over to celebrate with y‘all, but by the looks of it I missed most of the party.”  
   
“You have no idea…” I mutter more to myself than to him, looking around at the disaster area that is my kitchen.  
   
“You, um…need some help in here? Looks like a hurricane came through…”  
   
I start to say no, it’s not his problem or his place to be cleaning up after the boys, but something makes me change my mind and instead I find myself nodding, “Actually, I’d really like that…”  
   
He grins, a real smile that goes right to his bright blue eyes, and steps further into the room, pulling his hands from his pockets, “So what can I do for ya?”  
   
I smile softly at his seeming enthusiasm about cleaning and look around for a moment, playing with some strands of hair as I think, “Well…there’s that…mess…in the sink. I’m not quite sure what it is, but it needs to go away.”  
   
* * *  
   
Nearly an hour and one minor disaster later, the kitchen is clean again, but Dale and I are far from it. The mess in the sink turned out to be a half pound of hamburger meat someone blew up with a firework. One of the plastic cups got glued to the table, and an entire bottle of Jose Cuervo fell to the ground and shattered when Dale slid on a puddle of Vodka on the floor. He’d ended up soaked in alcohol, laughing hysterically in the middle of the kitchen floor. It’d been so ridiculous that I’d joined in before trying to help him up. Of course, I ended up landing on top of him instead. We’d spent the next five minutes trying to dig a piece of glass from the palm of his hand, but weren’t having much luck.  
   
“Do you have some tweezers or something‘? Those usually do the trick…” he scrapes at his palm with his fingernail, trying to remove the offending glass.  
   
“Upstairs in my bathroom. C’mon,” I grab his uninjured hand and lead him through the house to the stairs, blinking when I feel him hesitate. I turn to look at him, furrowing my eyebrows, “What?”  
   
He blushes slightly, giving me a bashful look, “Maybe I should wait down here.”  
   
“What? Afraid you might see a tampon or something?”  
   
The blush darkens and he ducks his head in embarrassment, looking adorably boyish in the process, “Somethin’ like that, yeah.”  
   
“Alright, fine. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”  
   
After searching for several minutes, I find my tweezers and come back downstairs, leading Junior back into the kitchen, where the lighting is better. We stand in front of the sink, the light over it turned on for some extra help. The glass is wedged into his palm pretty good and it takes almost ten more minutes and some serious whining on his part before I finally manage to get it out.  
   
“God, you’re such a wimp.”  
   
“Am not! That hurt like a bitch and you poking me with those damn pointy tweezers didn‘t help either!”  
   
“Sure, June. Whatever you say. I think you might be a bigger wimp than my husband. God forbid he bangs his elbow on the counter, he’s off and running about how much it hurts.”  
   
“I find that hard to believe, coming from the idiot who rode a kite tube and nearly took his eye out.”  
   
I snort, “You’d think so, right?”  
   
As we talk I notice the distance between us growing shorter but can’t seem to stop myself from inching in closer as he does the same. I’ve always been fond of Junior; the way he’s such a southern gentleman, like the boys I dated back in Muskogee, always there to lend a hand or have a laugh. In the back of my mind I know if I had met him before Jimmie, I probably wouldn’t be Mrs. Chandra Johnson right now. We inch in a little further, until his hand is resting over mine on the counter, our hips pressed lightly together. I can feel my pulse picking up, mouth going dry.  
   
“…Chan?”  
   
I shake my head to clear my thoughts when I realize I’ve zoned out on him, missing whatever it was he’s said, “Yeah?”  
   
“You okay? You look a little flushed,” he ducks his head down to get a better look at my face and we come dangerously close together. My breath catches in my throat as I nod in response, unable to speak for a moment.  
   
“I’m fine. Just…tired. It’s been a long day…”  
   
He nods but doesn’t make any move to pull back, “I know the feeling…”  
   
We stand there for several long moments, awkwardly looking at anything but each other. What is this, high school? I know this is all incredibly wrong. I’m married, my husband and dozens of our closest friends are right outside, and yet I’m in here with Dale Fucking Junior, the sexual tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Our gazes finally meet and something inside of me snaps. Without a second thought, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me in close as our lips come together in a bruising kiss.  
   
He feels completely different from Jimmie. His lips are fuller, softer to the touch. His stubble brushes harshly against my skin and I can’t help wanting more. Lips part slowly and he quickly takes the dominant role, tongue pushing past lips and teeth to caress my own. He’s much more forward than Jimmie, taking what he wants without hesitance and I melt against him, enjoying the new sensations. I’m so used to being in charge that it’s nice to be the one not in control for a change. His arms tighten around me and I press my body flush against his, gasping softly when I feel the bugle in his jeans. Is it seriously possible that he’s as turned on as I am?  
   
Before my brain has a chance to process what’s going on, he’s lifting me up and setting me down on the countertop. I slide my legs around his waist, heels of my shoes digging into the backs of his legs. He tangles his fingers in my hair, teeth nibbling at my bottom lip as I trace my fingers along his neck. This is all turning me on to a painful degree and I know I should stop, but I can’t seem to pull away. I want more, even knowing how wrong this all is. He presses his lips hard against my own and I moan softly as I feel one of his hands sliding between us, cupping one of my breasts gently, almost hesitantly. I press myself against him and he seems reassured, slipping both hands under my shirt. He nails drag along my skin as his hands make their way up my body and I shiver despite the heat between us.  
   
Abruptly, he pulls away and we stare into one another’s eyes, panting softly as we silently discuss what should happen next. His eyes are darkened from their normally bright hue to a deep Sapphire, pupils dilated with arousal. His hands rest on my ribs just below my bra, thumbs tracing over my skin lightly as I play with the hair at the back of his neck, lightly running my nails along the outline of his scar. It’s he who breaks the silence first.  
   
“Chan? Maybe we shouldn’t. You’re married and we could get in some serious trouble…I don’t want to start no trouble for you…”  
   
I chew on my bottom lip. He’s right and I know it. But I also know something he doesn’t, “…trust me, he won’t even notice.”  
   
He seems to mull it over for a moment before deciding not to ask any questions. When he kisses me again, it’s completely different this time around. It’s hotter and more needy, full of teeth and tongue and his hands…god, his hands are everywhere. I don’t know how much longer I can last like this. I want more. I need more.  
   
Without a word from me, he seems to know what I want. Clothes start coming off and within moments we’re both in nothing but our birthday suits, making out in the kitchen while the party rumbles on in the backyard. We both know we don’t have much time and this is going to have to be rushed, but I don’t care. I want this so damn bad and I’ll take whatever I can get. Hell, maybe there’ll be time for a slower round later on. But for right now, I’m content with a cheap fuck on the kitchen counter.  
   
“Dale…” I whimper against his ear as he trails kisses along my neck, lifting me back up onto the counter. He shushes me with a finger over my lips, positioning us so he can press into me slowly. I moan softly, arching into him as he fills me entirely. He feels amazing inside of me, so different from the way it feels with Jimmie. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him in tighter as he starts to rock his hips against mine, each thrust gentle yet demanding.  
   
“God…Dale, that’s amazing…” I bury my face in his neck and dig my nails into his shoulders as he speeds up, thrusting hard into me. I rock myself against him, biting back a loud moan as he angles his thrusts a bit, hitting my sweet spot. My body tenses slightly and I cling to him even more, relishing the little whimpers that escape him. His hands roam across my back and down my sides, mouth moving seductively along my neck and collarbone. We don’t have much time, but the way things are going, we won’t be needing much more. God, he knows exactly what he’s doing.  
   
He pulls back a little, looking me in the eye as he leans me back a bit so he can rest some of his weight on the counter. I moan loudly, nails raking down his arms as I arch my back into his touch, holding his gaze for as long as I can manage. His eyes are such a deep shade of blue it’s almost unsettling and there’s so much emotion swirling through them. It’s all I can do not to lose myself in them, it’s been so long since I’ve experienced this kind of passion with someone.  
   
The familiar intensity starts to build up inside of me and I know I won’t be able to last much longer. I lift my hips a little with every thrust, hands planted on the counter behind me. He senses my impending orgasm and quickly picks up the pace, grinding hard against me between every thrust.  
   
“Shit, Dale…so damn good…” I bite down on my lip as my body tenses up, fire burning through my veins.  
   
“C’mon Chani…” His voice is deep and coarse in my ear, his drawl thickened with lust, “Wanna feel ya comin’, Princess…”  
   
I finally lose all control and my body shudders against his when I feel his thumb brushing roughly against my clit. I let out a scream and grind myself against him shamelessly, crying out his name in ecstasy. It doesn’t take long for him to follow after and I savor the feel of him exploding inside of me. He buries his face in my neck as he cries out his release, holding onto me tightly.  
   
After a few moments we slowly, reluctantly, pull apart. Our bodies are covered in sweat, our hair plastered to our foreheads as we pant softly, still lost in the afterglow. That was the most incredible sex I’ve ever had, period. I’ve never been with another man who could make me feel the way he just did in less than ten minutes. I look at him intently as he runs a hand through his hair, wiping some sweat off his forehead. He looks thoroughly spent, cheeks flushed a bright red that I’m sure mirrors my own. Eyes that were only minutes before darkened with lust are once again that playful hue of blue I know so well. He looks back at me, seemingly studying me the same way I’m studying him. The only thing I don’t see in his eyes is the one thing that matters.  
   
Regret.  
   
He doesn’t regret this, and neither do I.  
   
We dress slowly, silently, helping one another back into jeans and shirts, fixing ourselves so we don’t look completely rumpled. The only thing we can’t hide are the mutual freshly-fucked faces we both wear and can’t seem to wipe off. I run my fingers through my hair before pulling it up into a ponytail, smiling softly as he kisses me on the cheek.  
   
I look up at him, stifling a yawn as I ask noncommittally, “Gonna get going?”  
   
“Probably should. The sun’s about to come up and I need some damn sleep. I don’t know how they do this, partyin’ till all hours the way they do.”  
   
“Don’t worry, Junior. Soon enough they’ll be as old as you are and won’t be able to anymore.”  
   
“Hey!” He ruffles my hair and I let out a shriek, laughing as I try to run away and he chases after me. We run back outside and around the pool, where several people have managed to pass out. He catches me near the diving board and flips me over his shoulder, carrying be around to the front of the house. When he finally puts me down, we’re standing in front of his car and I know I don’t want some awkward goodbye. I wrap my arms around him in a friendly hug and kiss his cheek softly.  
   
“Night, Dale. I’ll see you at the track this weekend…”  
   
He nods, returning my hug, “You can count on it, Princess.”  
   
With that, he slides into his car and gives me a wave before zipping off down the street. I watch his car disappear around the corner before heading back inside. The house is still a mess and the party is still going full swing, but I can’t seem to care. Right now, all I want is to curl up in bed and bask in the afterglow of the most amazing sex I’ll never have again.


	2. Kick Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Chandra joins Junior for a Superbowl to Remember.
> 
> AUTHOR: Mick  
> RATING: NC-17  
> CHARACTER: Dale Earnhardt Jr., Chandra Johnson - Chandra POV  
> COMPLETED: 07/03/08

_Mooresville, NC  
Dirty Mo' Acres_ 

 

When I agreed to come here for the superbowl…I wasn’t…well…this isn’t how I thought it’d be. I didn’t expect to be the only guest. I was expecting to be one of the only women, yes…but not the only one. I was assuming there’d be dozens and dozens of people crammed into the house, all watching the game together. I certainly didn’t think it’d just be us. “Us” being him and me. Just him and me, sitting on the couch together with a bowl of chips between us. Not a friend or family member in sight. Even the animals are missing, which is odd. Usually Killer is right up Junior’s ass, but today he’s been MIA since I showed up. I can’t help but wonder about his intentions.  
   
Ever since our little encounter several weeks ago, we’ve been seeing more and more of one another. Of course, the fact that he and my husband are now teammates makes it that much easier. I can stop by the shop to say hello to Jimmie and conveniently bump into him in the halls somewhere. It looks normal if I pop my head into his office to say hello for a few minutes before I leave for home, like I do with Jeff and Casey. We’ve turned into friends, but never once has either of us mentioned what happened that day. The way I spread my legs for him like a virgin on prom night. How he willingly accepted the offer without a second thought.  
   
It hasn’t happened again. It was a one time thing; at least, that’s what I keep telling myself. Considering we won’t even talk about it, and we’ve been acting like it never happened, it sort of makes sense to think that way. I guess. To be totally honest, I wouldn’t mind several hundred repeats of that night. I would tell him so too, except I haven’t exactly had the chance to do that before now. Talking about the one night stand you had with your husband’s teammate while your husband is down the hall isn’t exactly the smartest idea. Not like Jimmie would really notice anyway. He spends all of his free time with his clan of idiots, lead by DiScala and Lachey. Ever since Nick and Jessica got divorced, he’s spent more and more time convincing Jimmie to come with him and A.J. on all their little bachelor getaways. The sad part is that Jimmie goes with them at the drop of a dime and I don’t even care enough to argue with him. That never seems to bother him, either.  
   
As if he knew I was thinking about him, Jimmie shows up on the TV screen in all his HD glory. Nick’s right beside him, closer than what seems necessary, and I can’t help but wonder…  
   
It’s not a secret between Jimmie and I that he’s got a thing for men. Long before I was in the picture, he and Jeff had a hot and heavy affair going. It’s long since lost its steam, but every now and then they still get together. He’ll never admit to it, and neither will Jeff, but Ingrid and I are no fools. We know what our husbands do when they think no one’s looking. For a long time it made me wonder if I was doing something wrong, if I wasn’t satisfying him somehow, but ever since that night with Junior…I just don’t care anymore. If he needs to stray from me every now and then to fulfill some need I can’t help him with, so be it. He’s not the only one who can get his cookies elsewhere.  
   
Jimmie and Nick sort of makes sense to me, in a sick and twisted way. Nick’s been bed hopping since before the divorce finalized. He spends a lot of time with Vanessa, but they’re friends more than anything else. Usually he’s off playing with the boys, A.J. and Jimmie especially. The three of them are attached at the hip. Nick and Jimmie’s golf tournament was just one more way for them to spend as much time together as possible without anyone around to bug them or start asking questions. Not that I’d even thought to ask questions until just now. I swear, it almost looks like…  
   
“Chani, you okay?” Junior’s soft voice to my left pulls me from my daydream and I blush softly as I look over at him sheepishly. I’d completely lost myself for a minute there and he looks concerned.  
   
“Sorry, Junior…just…” Just say it. You want him and you want to know if that’s why he asked you over here today, “…tired, I guess. All the traveling the past couple weeks has worn me out. Daytona, home, back to Daytona, Vegas, California…I’m starting to think I should have just hid in the house until the 500.” Or, you know…hid out in his house. That could be a lot more fun than hiding at home with the dogs for company. At least Junior can hold a halfway decent conversation when the mood strikes him. The dogs just look at me like I’m crazy…which I must be, for actually expecting them to talk back.  
   
He gives me a sympathetic smile and I can see the understanding in his eyes. It’s been no easier on Junior the last couple weeks. Ever since testing started up again, he’s been getting carted all over the place. Filming commercials, photo shoots, interviews, working in the shop with his cousin and their team, driving…it’s a wonder he’s not feeling as dead as I am. Of course, his eyes do look incredibly tired. The usual spark isn’t there today and I can’t help but wonder how much of the fatigue is left over from last season. It was such a strain on him, trying to break away from Teresa and DEI. The lack of a win and the fans expressing their doubt weren’t much of a help, I’d imagine. My heart goes out to the man, a lot of people would have cracked under the pressure by now. He’s a lot stronger than he likes to let on.  
   
“Yeah…I know the feelin’ darlin’…been there myself the last few weeks. S’why I didn’t throw the usual party everyone expects outta me this year…” He makes a gesture with his arm, motioning to the empty room we’re sitting in as if to explain the lack of people here with us. I nod my understanding and move the bowl of chips to the coffee table so I can scoot in a little closer to him. He watches me curiously, then shrugs to himself and scoots the rest of the way over, sliding his arm around my shoulders without hesitation.  
   
Glance up at him, a soft smirk on my face, “So…was this some master plan of yours, Junior? Trick me into thinking there was a party so you could get me alone for a few hours? You didn’t have to go to all the trouble, you know. I would have just as willingly showed up any time you called…not that I mind the gesture.”  
   
His face fills with blood all the way to his ears and he ducks his head bashfully, “Aw, hell, Chani. How was I supposed to know that, huh? We haven’t even skirted ‘round the subject since that party…for all I knew it was a one time deal and you’da laughed in my face if I invited you over…” He scratches at his chin, covered in stubble from a week or so of not shaving, and manages to hold my gaze for a moment, “I wasn’t even sure you’d stay today when you figured out no one else was comin’…”  
   
“I’d never laugh in your face, June…” Reach up to stroke his cheek gently, kissing it softly before adding, “Not when I know how damn good you are in the sack, anyway.”  
   
He laughs and gives me a crooked smile, “How would you know? Never got me in the sack, darlin’. Hell, we never made it off the kitchen counter!”  
   
I smirk and nibble on his earlobe, reaching down to stroke his inner thigh as I whisper, “Then maybe you should show me, Junior…”  
   
Feel him tense up as he moans softly and smirk to myself. I start to wonder just how much willpower he has but before I can test him further, I’m whisked up into his arms as he stands up and heads out of the room, making his way to the stairs. I can’t help but giggle as I wrap my arms around him, nuzzling his neck, “Jesus Junior…didn’t take much convincing at all, did it?”  
   
We hit the landing on the second floor and he sets me back on my feet, pressing me against the wall as he dips his head down to kiss me deeply. It takes me by surprise but I recover quickly and kiss him back fervently, wrapping my arms around his neck to hold him tightly in place. His hands roam up and down my sides, along my back and down over my ass as his tongue slides out hesitantly against my lips, which I part to him willingly. Moan softly as I taste him, dragging my own tongue along his, urging him further. One hand comes up to tangle in my hair, tugging gently on it as the kiss deepens further and a shiver slides down my spine, the chill leaving a pool of heat between my thighs.  
   
Without warning his free arm wraps around me and he lifts me up again, my legs wrapping around his waist out of instinct. He’s already hard and I can feel the thick bulge between us, making the heat between my legs intensify even more. Rock my hips against him as he carries me to the bedroom, reveling in the soft moans and whimpers it provokes. Without breaking the kiss or letting me go, he manages to lay down on the bed, pinning me beneath him. I tighten my legs around him, hands coming up to tug his shirt out of his jeans, pushing it up his chest as I drag my nails along his skin. He moans louder now, pulling back long enough to rip his shirt off over his head and toss it onto the floor.  
   
Press my hands against his chest, urging him to sit up so I can do the same, tossing my shirt with his before reaching behind my back to get my bra off. He licks his lips, watching intently as I slide it down my arms, dropping it to the floor. His eyes darken with lust and I feel the flush creeping onto my face under his scrutiny. He smirks softly, leaning down to place a gentle kiss to my lips, “Guess we’re even now, darlin’.”  
   
I laugh softly, biting down on my lip when his hands reach up to cup my breasts, groping and massaging them until I’m whimpering and squirming beneath him, lifting my hips to grind up against him again. My skin’s on fire, veins pumping white hot through me with every second ticking by. I want him, badly, and foreplay isn’t in my game plan. Reach down between us to unfasten his belt, popping open the button of his wranglers before tugging the fly open so I can nudge them down over his hips. He takes the hint and sits up again, mimicking my actions on my own jeans, which he quickly tugs off before getting up to shimmy out of his own.   
   
The sight of Junior standing before me naked, and the knowledge that he was commando under his jeans, elicits a moan from my lips and he smirks softly, crawling back onto the bed. He hovers over me, leaving seductive little kisses along my collarbone and up my neck, “Something the matter, Chani? You seem a little…worked up…” He chuckles softly into my ear and I moan louder, wrapping a leg around his waist to pull him down against me.  
   
“God dammit, Junior. Stop playing games with me and fuck me already!” I’m whining, but I don’t care. I want him, have wanted him since the last time, and I don’t want to wait anymore. Wrap my arms around him, one hand tangling painfully tight in his hair and the other raking nails down his back roughly.  
   
A pain filled yelp mixed with a moan tears from his throat and before I can beg again his hands are tugging my legs around his waist as he shifts to thrust hard into me, entering me with such force that I can’t help a shout of my own. He hesitates a moment but I urge him on, grinding myself up against him shamelessly until he’s rocking his hips hard against my own. Each thrust is hard and deep, filling me entirely. I scream his name over and over, hands dragging up and down his back as I keep rhythm with him, working myself against him. He buries his face in my neck, biting and sucking on the tender flesh there, moaning throatily into my ear from time to time.   
   
Junior’s not much of a talker, but that’s fine by me. As long as he doesn’t stop pounding into me with that delicious cock of his, I won’t care in the least. He lifts himself up a little, angling his thrusts so they penetrate deeper and my entire body stiffens up as he hits me just right. Let out a shriek of ecstasy as he does it again and again, my back arching up off the bed, “Oh...my…god!” I tighten my grip on his hair, one of my legs trembling a little as my orgasm starts to build up. It’s near impossible for Jimmie to get me worked up, let alone this quickly, and I’m beginning to wonder why the hell I didn’t have an affair with Junior years ago.  
   
I feel the rumbling of laughter in Junior’s chest at my reaction and he catches my gaze for a moment, his voice husky as he teases, “Take it y’like that, Princess? S’matter, no one ever fucked ya this good before?”  
   
“Cocky fuck…” I drag my nails down his back again, delighting in the soft moan that escapes him as he grinds deep into me between thrusts.  
   
“Call ‘em like I see ‘em…” He dips his head down to kiss me roughly, no longer hesitant to take exactly what he wants from me, and this time around the kiss is brutal and full of lust, our tongues battling for dominance as he pounds into me harder and harder with every jerk of his hips. I tighten my legs around his waist, trying to hold him there longer but he refuses, instead pulling my legs off of him. Before I can protest, he slips them over his shoulders, nearly bending me in half as he leans back down again.  
   
“Oh…fuckinggodinheavendon’tyoudarestop!” My breath comes out in a rush as he fucks me harder, his cock thrusting impossibly deep with this new angle. I’ve been known to try some new positions in bed before, but never in my life has a man taken me quite like this. It’s liberating and dirty and oh-so-very-good. His name becomes a mantra on my lips as my orgasm builds up even quicker now and his moans increase in volume with every thrust. He’s as close as I am and the thought makes me shiver with delight. I want to feel it, badly, “C’mon Junior…fuck me…make me come…”   
   
“Demandin’, ain’tcha Princess?” He smacks my ass lightly and I gasp in surprise, “You wanna come so bad…do it…lemme feel ya comin’…” His accent is so thick with sex that he’s barely understandable now, but the intent is clear as day. I moan loudly as my body tenses up with the impending orgasm. One or two more well aimed thrusts and I’m going to come undone, whether he wants me to or not, and he knows it.  
   
In a blur of ecstasy, he hits me in just the right spot and my orgasm hits me like a Mac truck. My entire body tenses up and then explodes with the force of it and I shriek his name as I come. My muscles tremble around his cock, still pounding into me with mind numbing force, and it’s mere seconds before I feel him explode inside of me, the sounds of him screaming his release nearly sending me over the edge all over again. My name comes tumbling from his lips amidst a wave of expletives and I shiver with pleasure at the sound.  
   
We stay like this for several long, pleasure filled moments, bent up and tangled together, panting and sweating like pigs in heat. When he finally pulls from me, my legs drop to the bed numbly, a pleasant ache taking the place of his cock. He flops down next to me, stretching languidly, almost catlike, before sprawling out on his back and closing his eyes. There’s a tiny smile pulling at his lips and when he opens his eyes again, he looks over at me and it grows wider, “Hot damn, darlin’…”  
   
I grin and roll onto my stomach, curling up against him so I can rest my chin on his chest, “Mm…weren’t so bad yourself, sweetness…” I kiss his chest softly, draping an arm over his stomach as he slips an arm around me, pulling me in closer against him. The blush returns to his cheek and I laugh softly, “Looks like I win this time.”  
   
He tries to stifle a yawn but fails miserably, closing his eyes for a moment, “Get ya next time…” His arm tightens around me protectively as he gives in to the sleepiness, “Don’t go runnin’ out soon as I fall asleep, y‘hear?”   
   
“And miss out on listening to you snore all night?” I smile softly and nuzzle his neck, settling against him comfortably, “Wouldn’t dream of it, Junior.”   
   
And I honestly wouldn’t.


	3. Lunch Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Chandra meets Junior for lunch.  
> RATING: NC-17  
> CHARACTER: Dale Earnhardt Jr., Chandra Johnson - Chandra POV  
> COMPLETED: 07/03/08

 

_Charlotte, NC  
Hendrick Motorsports_

It’s been weeks since that night; since the Superbowl to end all Superbowls. Things have only managed to get more and more intense as the days went by. It started out as a once a week thing, usually when Jimmie was out of town for sponsor stuff. A month into it, we were meeting up every chance we could get. We’d make fake plans that didn’t involve those close to us and meet up at his house or in his shop. One time I even told Jimmie I had to go to New York for some modeling duties and instead spent the night on the Acres. It’s been scary and dangerous. It’s been dirty and unforgivable. We’ve loved every second of it. The sneaking around, the forbidden acts, the unspeakable betrayals…they all make this affair so much more fun, so much more intense and worthwhile. It’s what’s kept me going this season, with all the failures and rough patches. All of Chad’s fits over missed lugnuts and shoddy set ups, all of Jimmie’s tantrums on the coach over Chad’s fits and his team’s mishaps…they all disappear every time I see him. Every time we get a moment alone together, it’s like the rest of the world ceases to exist and there’s just us and the moment we’re sharing.  
   
I’ve done my best not to get attached to him. I know better than to think something is going to come out of this beyond the mind-blowing sex. I’m married, after all, and how awful would it look if Jimmie and I suddenly divorced and I started showing up on Junior’s pit box every week? Hanging around him at the track and in the shop is one thing, we’re teammates of sorts, but to have anything outside of that with him would just cause trouble. We’ve even talked about it on several occasions, just to make sure we’re on the same page. We’re both well aware that this is just sex and anything else that happens along the way is to be ignored and avoided at all costs. Sex is sex, no strings attached. He’s allowed to date whoever he pleases whenever he feels like it, and I go home every night to my husband, who as of late is never around anyway. I could probably spend every night at Junior’s house and he’d never even realize it.  
   
I’m beginning to suspect my theory about Jimmie and Nick is right. More and more lately, Nick’s been showing up. Whether we’re at the track, at home, or on vacation somewhere, he always seems to pop up unexpectedly. Jimmie never seems to mind the sudden appearance of his friend, either. During our off week for Easter, he even invited him to come skiing in Aspen with us. It was supposed to be a romantic weekend, a couples getaway for us, and he invited Nick along. The pair wound up scampering off early in the morning and not returning until late at night, leaving me alone in the lodge for five days straight before I finally got up the nerve to tell Jimmie what an idiot he was being. He’d felt terrible about it after I chewed him out and took me out to dinner that night, as if expensive wine and chicken would make it all better again. When we got back to Charlotte, I booked it to the Acres and spent an entire day and night taking out my frustrations on Junior in the form of physics defying sex.  
   
Our newest development in this torrid affair usually happens on Tuesday afternoons, while Jimmie’s meeting with Chad and Mr. Hendrick for a private team meeting. Junior’s usually in his JR Motorsports office in the kiddie garage, preparing himself for the day’s Unrestricted recording with Josh, Mitch, and Steve. We figured out that if I slip into the building from the fire escape, I can make it into his office without anyone knowing I’m even there. His corner office is upstairs in a room overlooking the shop floor, all four walls made of windows. Two of them overlook the company grounds, sprawling out for acres in all directions. The others overlook the shop, although from down on the floor it’s impossible to see into the office. The first time we went at it in there, we made sure to close all the blinds, just to be safe. After the third time, when we’d been so horny we rushed right into things and forgot, we realized that no one would ever catch us up there. Now it’s turned into a game; lets see how far we can go without getting caught. The danger makes everything so much more intense.  
   
A smile flits across my lips as I remember last Tuesday, how he bent me over the desk, my miniskirt pushed up around my waist and his pants down around his knees. He’d fucked me so hard that afternoon I’d felt sore for days. He’d been incredibly pissed off before I’d showed up, something about an argument with his mom, and I was once again shunned by my husband for “man time” with Nick and AJ. We’d gone at it like bitches in heat, the desk creaking below us, threatening to give us away. I’ve never come so hard in my life as I did that afternoon. My knees gave out and the air rushed from my lungs, and I had to practically swallow my fist to keep from screaming his name when he exploded inside of me.  
   
Lick my lips and smooth my dress over my thighs as I creep up the stairs to his office, knowing full well that he’s waiting for me to show up. If I’m lucky he’ll be naked in his desk chair, already at full salute and waiting patiently for me to hike my dress up and crawl into his lap. I reach the landing outside his office and sure enough, he’s there. I smirk softly and push the door open, he’s already seen me through the window, and walk inside, giving him a flirtatious little wave as I make my way to the desk. Sadly, he’s still dressed, but we can fix that problem in seconds.  
   
“Afternoon, Darlin’…” his accent is thick with lust and it sends a shiver down my spine, “Was wonderin’ when you were gonna show up…was startin’ to think I was bein’ stood up or somethin‘…” His eyes flash with playfulness as he gets up to greet me, always the southern gentleman.  
   
“Mm…sorry, Junebug. Traffic’s a bitch.” I round the desk and slide up onto it, shifting a bit so my dress hikes up over my thighs. I lean back on my hands, licking my lips as he steps between my legs, his hands already making quick work of pulling my dress up further. He’s already hard, if the bulge in his jeans is any indication at all. Catch my bottom lip between my teeth as he slips a hand between my thighs, his fingers teasing my already slick entrance.  
   
“Now Chani…thought we had a talk about you walkin’ ‘round with no panties on,” He clucks his tongue at me and shakes his head in mock disapproval, “Told ya last time, someone might notice and think you’re here with bad intentions. Wouldn‘t want that now, would we?”  
   
I bat my eyelashes at him, hooking a leg around his to pull him in closer, “Don’t act like you don’t like it, sweetness. You love it how fucking naughty I am…makes you want to tear those Wranglers off and teach me a lesson.”  
   
He swallows down a moan and I know he’s on the brink of flipping me over and pounding into me mercilessly. A thrill runs through me and I have to bite back a moan of my own. I swallow thickly as his fingers brush teasingly against my clit, my hips bucking involuntarily against his hand. Abruptly, he pulls back and tugs me off the desk to my feet, “You know what, Darlin’? You’re absolutely right. You’re a naughty girl…and where I come from, naughty girls need to be taught a lesson.”  
   
Oh this should be good. This should be damn good. I look up at him, fighting off the urge to shove him down in the chair and have my way with him, wanting to see where he’s going to take this. Slip my arms around his waist, sliding my hands into his back pockets to squeeze his ass. He resists my advance, however, reaching back for my wrists so he can pull my hands away. With surprising strength he grips both my wrists in one hand and turns me around, spanking me lightly over my dress. I gasp as his hand claps down on my ass and then moan softly when I realize just what his intentions are.  
   
“Going to spank me, Junior? Gonna bend me over the desk and treat me like a dirty little girl?” I press back against the hand still on my ass, tilting my head back to catch his gaze, “Do it, Junior. Teach me a lesson.”  
   
His eyes blaze with lust and before I can even comprehend what’s going on, he pulls me over to one of the windows facing the shop and presses me against it, grinding himself against my ass. I gasp and plant my hands on the glass, pushing back against him. The longer he teases me like this, the harder it gets to keep control. I want him inside of me and I’m sick of waiting. He knows it though, and before I can start to beg I hear his zipper coming undone and in moments my dress is hiked up around my hips and his cock is brushing against my entrance. I whimper and press against him again, which only rewards me with a slap on the ass as he pins me harder to the window.   
   
“Fuck…Junior, god dammit…fuck me!” My voice comes out in a growl I barely recognize as my own and he chuckles softly in my ear as I squirm and fight to get off the wall.  
   
“Now, now, Chandra. I’m supposed to be teachin’ you a lesson here. You don’t stop fightin’ I’m just gonna have to keep spankin’ you, and how would that look if you went home to your husband with my hand prints all over your sweet little ass, hm?” His fingers trace light circles along my ass before he smacks me again, harder this time, and I let out a yelp, my hips jerking back against him. He tsks at me and once again his hand comes crashing down on my skin, “God, you are a naughty little slut, aren’t you? You’re enjoying this, and here I am trying to punish you.”  
   
“Junior…please…for the love of god, fuck me. Hard, fast, loud…you know how I like it…” I grind myself against his cock and he can’t hold back his moans this time. I push back harder against him, gasping when he finally - FINALLY - gives me what I want. In one quick thrust he buries himself inside of me and I let out a howl of pleasure, pressing my forehead to the cool glass of the window as I arch back against him, “Oh fuck YES! God, don‘t stop!”  
   
His hands slip under my dress, making their way up to grope my breasts roughly, pinching and rolling my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers as he rocks his hips hard against me, pounding into me over and over. His teeth graze along my neck before he growls into my ear, “Y’like that, Chani? Like my cock poundin’ into you like this? Right here in the window where anyone could see? Like some dirty little peepshow for them to watch?”  
   
My body trembles beneath him and I can only moan in response, grinding myself back against him shamelessly as he fucks me the way only he can. Lick my lips and take a glance down at the shop floor, my eyes skimming the area to see who’s around. Over in a far corner Alan and Casey are talking, probably about raceday setup, and closer to us I spot some of the 88 crew working on an engine. All of this is lost on me, however, because the only thing I can really concentrate on is Junior’s cock and the way it’s grinding into me harder and harder with every thrust of his hips.   
   
“Junior…so fucking good…love your cock…” A jumbled mess of words tumble from my lips as he brings me closer and closer to the edge, to the point where I’m less and less in control of my body. Gasp and let out a sharp yelp when his hand claps down on my ass out of nowhere and then moan even louder when the stinging sensation it leaves behind somehow makes the feeling of ecstasy intensify. I moan and scream his name, bucking back against him, begging him to do it again, harder. He obliges me and my whole body shakes with the first waves of my orgasm, looming just out of grasp.  
   
“Love it how fucking dirty you are, Chandra. Like my own personal slut…all mine for the takin’…” He’s growling into my ear again and I love it how dirty he‘s become. It took me weeks to break him down, to convince him it was okay to talk this way to me, and ever since he’s taken every opportunity to do so. One of his hands drops down between my thighs and I let out a shriek when he starts to rub my clit in hard, rough circles, sending me spiraling into wave after wave of orgasmic bliss. My knees buckle beneath me and I feel his strong arm around my waist, holding me up as he pounds into me two, three, four times more before he’s coming undone with me, the both of us screaming our release to the shop floor below us, no one down there any the wiser to what’s going on in the office above them.  
   
After several long, silent minutes pass by, he pulls from me slowly and scoops me up, carrying me back to the desk chair with him. He flops down into it none-too-gracefully, and I curl up into his lap, humming happily into his neck. His arms slide around me to hold me up and I let my eyes drift closed for a moment, basking in the afterglow of yet another Earth shattering lunch break rendezvous. I start to drift off a little as I listen to his heart beat slow back to normal, vaguely aware of his fingers running through my hair and stroking my neck.   
   
The shrill ringing of his office phone cuts into the peaceful silence and we both groan at the intrusion. With a reluctant sigh, he sits up and reaches for the speaker button, slamming down on it harder than is necessary, “Y’ello?”  
   
“Junioooooooooorr!! You plannin’ on comin’ to the recording today or should me and Mitch hold down the fort for ya? Because it’s already quarter passed and you were supposed to be here half an hour ago…Y‘get held up or somethin‘?” The familiar lisp of Junior’s best friend Josh Snider blares through the speaker at us.  
   
“Or somethin’, man. Or somethin’,” We share a knowing look and he chuckles softly, “I’ll be down there in a couple minutes, promise. Just wrappin’ up some stuff in here.”  
   
They say their goodbyes and the line goes dead. Reluctantly, I slide off Juniors lap, fixing myself as best I can without a mirror in front of me. He gets up and fixes himself as well, running a hand through his shaggy hair. We share a smile and a quick peck on the lips before I slip out of the office and make my way back over to the 24 and 48’s shop. Jimmie should just be finishing up with Chad and Mr. Hendrick and if I’ve timed it right, I’ll catch them outside his office, successfully concluding yet another episode of the Chandra and Junior lunch break hour.


	4. Broken Bridges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: He’s my soul mate, plain and simple  
> RATING: PG for some language  
> CHARACTER: Jimmie Johnson, Chandra Johnson - Jimmie POV  
> COMPLETED: 07/03/08

_Lake Norman, NC  
The Johnson's Home_

It's a twisted, tangled web that we weave. All the lies and sneaking around, all of the cheating and indiscretions. And for what, really? A few nights of doing things we'd never possibly be forgiven for? It wouldn’t be such a terrible situation if it were just me. If it were just the two of us. If we both didn’t have other people in our lives that cared about us the way that they do. As it is I feel awful for having a hand in his crappy relationships as of late. Every time he meets some nice girl, some cute girl that he could have a future with, I come stumbling into the picture at the most inopportune of moments; figuratively and literally. I don’t plan it that way, it just sort of happens. In the beginning I felt bad about it, but now I just can’t find it in me to care. Of course, then I feel guilty for not feeling guilty, which makes me feel twice as guilty and…what can I say? It’s a twisted web. What I should really feel guilty for is lying to her. Lying to the woman who took my name, who wanted to plan a future with me. I’ve been lying to her since before I even proposed to her. She knows it too, and sticks around anyway, which just tears me up even more. Of course, at the same time it also makes me wonder why she even bothers. What the hell is in it for her when I’m off running around with my partner in crime?

I wish there was a way to stop this, but I know there isn’t. I’m addicted to him. I need him like I need the air in my lungs. Not being with him feels all sorts of wrong, and the longer I spend away from him the more it makes me feel like I’m dying inside. It sounds completely melodramatic, like some stupid high school girl with a crush, but it’s the only way I know to properly describe how much he means to me. He honestly is the air I breathe. Everything I do somehow comes back to him in some shape or form. Lately we’ve been trying to come up with as many ways as possible to spend time together. Whether it be fund raisers, golfing, skiing, “man time” with the rest of our group…it doesn’t matter as long as we’re together. I really did feel bad about inviting him out to Aspen when it was supposed to be a weekend for me and my wife, but I just couldn’t bear one more minute without him. She didn’t seem to mind until the third or fourth day when it occurred to her that I had no intentions of spending any time with her while he was around.

The sad part about of all this is that there’s nothing going on between us. We’re nothing but friends, practically brothers, but we just have this really intense connection. We’ve kissed a couple of times, but it’s never gone any further than that. No blowjobs, no sex, not even a hand job in the back of a limo or something. What we have defies sex. What we have is love in its purest form. He’s my soul mate, plain and simple. Not romantically, but in every other sense of the word. To be perfectly honest, I think he’s just scared to let us get to that next level. I’m not going to push him or pressure him in any way. I’m 100% content with where we are right now and not having sex with him isn’t going to change anything. I love the time we spend together, love our conversations and our games. We go golfing a couple of times a week, he comes out to the races whenever he can find the time, and we’ve been talking about joint business moves for a while now. We’re thinking of buying some stakes in a football team or something in the near future. Just have to decide where our money’s going to go. For a former boy band member, he’s more of a business man than I could ever dream of being. Of course, considering who he was married to, it’s probably a good thing he’s got such a hold on his finances. He may have wound up broke otherwise. 

It’s never crossed my mind until now just how distant I’ve grown from my wife. I came home early from the shop, fully expecting her to be home curled up on the couch watching TV or playing Sudoku while the dogs napped at her feet. I definitely did not expect to come home to an empty house. The dogs were curled up in their bed together, but they were alone. I looked through every room in the house, even went outside to check by the pool even though it’s not quite warm enough to go swimming yet. She was nowhere to be found. I couldn’t even find a note or a message on the answering machine. I checked my voicemail to see if maybe I’d missed something, but that came up empty as well. Thinking maybe she’d decided to go out with some friends and just forgot to call and let me know, I called her cell. It went right to voicemail, and that’s when I started to panic. I’d only been gone a few hours, three at the most, and had come home so we could have lunch together before I met up with him for some time at the driving range. It wasn’t like her to just take off without a word.

…or was it? It was in that instant that reality hit me hard in the face. Like a ton of bricks dropped from fifty stories up, the realization that I no longer had a real relationship with my wife came crashing down on me. And with that realization came the panic that I didn’t even know where to begin looking for her. Jeff and Ingrid were up in New York with Ella for a couple of days, her family was all back in Muskogee, and she wasn’t with my parents because they were both at work. Outside of that handful of people, I had no idea who her friends were or what their numbers were. I was at a complete and total loss. Never in my life had my heart pounded like it had at that very moment. The fear that something awful had happened to my wife struck me in my gut and I began to pace the house, praying to every deity I could think of that she was okay and that she’d be home soon. I’d ended up calling him and cancelling our plans, explaining the situation to him. He sounded as devastated as I felt, but he understood all the same. No matter how much we mean to one another, I still care about my wife, still worry about her wellbeing.

The grandfather clock in the front hall, the clock I won the day the Hendrick plane went down, was chiming three o’clock when the front door finally opened. I’d been home for almost three hours, sick to my stomach with worry, when she finally walked into the house. I’d been curled up on the couch with Maya and Roxie, all three of us perking up at the exact same moment when we heard the hinges of the front door squeak. I’d been meaning to grease them for ages, but now I was glad for the racket. I’d flown up off the couch and practically tackled her to the ground as I bear hugged her, filled with relief that she was home and safe. She seemed both shocked and confused at my being home, and even more so at how worried I’d been over her odd disappearance. She’d looked at me like I was a crazy person and informed me that she’d left me a voicemail at work to let me know she’d be stopping by to bring me lunch. We must have just missed one another, she’d said, so she stayed and had lunch with Junior instead. Hadn’t wanted to waste a perfectly good meal and he’d practically salivated over the pastrami on rye hoagies she’d shown up to the shop with.

Nearly an eternity passed before I managed to pry myself off her. She was still looking at me with the same expression on her face and it was starting to eat at me. Were we really so far apart that she was surprised over my worrying about her? Or was there something more that she wasn’t telling me? It was as she slipped by me and upstairs, saying something about wanting a shower, that I really took her in: the way her normally perfect hair was thrown up in a messy ponytail. Her makeup looked like it’d been through the rinse cycle. Her clothes were rumpled and there was a smell on her…one I recognized but couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t perfume, far too musky, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. My mind began to race, wondering if she was telling me the truth. This was my wife, after all, and there was no way she’d ever be anything but loyal to me.

Right?

I’d gone up after her a minute or so later, slipping into the bathroom while she was in the shower. The sight of her naked in the stall, steam floating around her as she washed her hair, it made me fall in love with her all over again. She was absolutely beautiful to me in that moment; the woman I’d fallen in love with years before. I stepped closer to the shower and she jumped when she saw me, startled by my sneak attack. I’d laughed it off and asked if there was room for two in there with her, but she’d begged me off, telling me she was tired and had a headache, just wanted to curl up in bed and lay down for a while. It stung being shot down by her. In the years we’d known one another, we’d never been able to keep our hands off one another when we were alone together. When we first got married, we came up with every excuse we could to get one another naked whenever possible. Now here we were, three years into our marriage, and she was giving me the headache line. Feeling shunned, I’d stormed from the room and called him up, told him our plans were back on and to meet me at the country club.

I’d left without even a word, turned my phone off just to spite her. If she wanted to play games with me, I’d play them right back. I had better things to do with my time than sit around playing guessing games with her. I was hurt and turned off and just wanted to be with someone that wanted to be with me. We’d met up at the golf course and spent two hours at the driving range, practicing our strokes. After we’d tired of swinging clubs, we’d moved inside for dinner and drinks. She crossed my mind once or twice, but one joke from him or one sip of brandy and she was forgotten again. My wife. The woman I love. The woman I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with.

I’m beginning to think there’s more going on with Chandra than she’s letting on and I’m going to get to the bottom of it. Right after I have one more drink with Nick. My soul mate.


	5. Two Pink Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Who knew peeing could be so monumental?   
> RATING: R  
> CHARACTER: Chandra Johnson, Jimmie Johnson - Chandra POV  
> COMPLETED: 07/04/08

_Lake Norman, NC  
The Johnson's Home_

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. This CANNOT be happening. There's no way in hell. Granted, we weren't always safe, but fuck. I'm on the pill for Pete's sake! I use a diaphragm! My damn cycle has been running like clockwork for years. I'm never late. Not ever! So why the hell is it a week late all of a sudden? I haven't missed a pill in years and the one or two times we went at it without protection, I wasn't even close to ovulating. It doesn't make any sense. Why is this happening? What the hell did I do to deserve this? I know I bitch and moan about cramps and bloating and fatigue, but fuck! What girl doesn't bitch about those things? It's our right as women to complain about all the discomfort we have to deal with on a monthly basis! It doesn't mean I want my period to not show up. In fact, I'd love for it to show it's face right now. This very second. 

I'm fucked. Completely fucked. The worst part about all of this is that if I AM…If I'm… I can't even say the word. But if I am, Jimmie's going to know that it's not his. He's going to know that I've been cheating on him all this time. We haven't had sex in at least a month. We've barely even spoken to one another since the day he came home early from work and I wasn't there. I'd told him I'd headed to the shop with lunch for him, which wasn't a total lie. I had gone to the shop under the pretense of meeting him for lunch. I'd just left out the part about giving Junior a blowjob under the desk while his sister was in the room trying to talk to him about licensing for the Nationwide team's new diecasts. He'd nearly pulled my hair out when he came, from trying so hard not to let on to what was going on. I wish I could have seen the look on his face when he did… 

Dammit, Chandra! Knock it off! Stop thinking about Junior. You've got bigger things to think about right now. Like what the hell you're going to do if your period doesn't show up. If you are…that. What the hell am I going to do? How am I going to deal with this? There's plenty of options, but none of them are all that appealing. I couldn't get rid of it. It's just not an acceptable concept for me. There's always adoption, but how would it look if I got pregnant and then Jimmie and I gave up "our" kid? I could tell Junior and see what he wants to do about it. Or I could just jump Jimmie's bones right now and if I am pregnant pray the kid looks like me so he's none the wiser. Then I wouldn't even have to tell Dale it's his, although I'm sure he'd be plenty suspicious. I mean, why wouldn't he be? Of course, I could tell him about my plan to trick Jimmie and see if he'll go along with it. I can't see a reason why he wouldn't.

…except that it's Junior's dream to have a child of his own. By lying to Jimmie about it, I'd be denying Junior the one thing he's always wanted. I'd never be able to bear the anguish on his face at having to watch another man raise his child. No, I definitely can't tell Junior about this. If I even am…that. Even if it is his, no doubts about it. I could never put him through such cruel and unusual punishment. I care too much about him to hurt him like that. Although, the same could be said for Jimmie. If I tried to pass it off as his and then it popped out with red hair and an Elvis lip-curl, he'd know in an instant that it wasn't his. He'd figure out what was really going on and then…I don't even want to think about it.

I went to a convenience store several towns west of us early this morning after Jimmie left for the shop. Picked up a box of pregnancy tests, that E.P.T. brand that can tell you if you're positive before you even skip a period. Now that I have them though, I don't know if I want to use them. I don't know if I can face those two pinks lines. And it's funny, really. The entire fate of my life rests on two stupid pink lines in the middle of a piece of plastic that I have to pee on. Who knew peeing could be so monumental? I've never had to use one of these things in my life and now here I am with a box of three, ready to pee on all of them in hopes that even just one will tell me I'm negative. In the hopes that the second line won't show up and this will all be over.

I really wish I had someone here with me right now. Anyone, really, just so I can have a hand to hold while I watch the clock and wait for the minutes to tick by agonizingly slow as my fate is decided. Unfortunately, I can’t tell anyone about this. I can't involve anyone else in this, it'd be far too risky of a move. Telling anybody that I might be pregnant would surely get me into more trouble than I want to think about right now. It'd get back to Jimmie and Dale in an instant and then I'd have two men looking at me accusingly and I just can't deal with that until I know for sure. Please God, just don't let that second line show up. 

Sigh softly and look back over at the box sitting on the counter in front of me. I've been sitting here on the edge of the tub for nearly an hour now, playing mind games with myself. Staring down the stupid pink box with the pregnant belly on it, willing the stupid plastic sticks inside to keep that second line from appearing. I glance at my watch and let out another sigh. Jimmie's going to be home within the hour. It's now or never. I can't avoid it any longer. I have to take at least one of the tests and find out what the hell's going to become of my life. Push myself up and grab the box, tearing it open. Reach inside and pull out one of the sticks, reading the directions that came in the box as I hold onto it in an iron grip. I'm so nervous I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.

I go through all the motions and set the stick facedown on the edge of the sink before washing my hands and returning to my perch on the edge of the tub. I can't look away from it. I keep staring at it, silently praying that the positive line doesn't appear. My stomach is tied in knots, butterflies swarming in my chest as my legs bounce impatiently. I wring my hands over and over, checking my watch every ten seconds to see if the time's gone by. Every second seems to take an hour to pass and I'm not sure how much of this I can take. I need to know. 

A clatter downstairs snaps me out of my trance and I can hear him calling out to me as the dogs bark happily, obviously excited at Jimmie's early arrival. Shit. He's not supposed to be home yet! It's too early! Before I can answer him, I see him come into the bedroom and my heart drops down into my stomach. Jump up quickly and close the bathroom door, making sure it's locked so he can't come in and see the pregnancy tests all over the place. I grab the box and shove it under the counter, far in the back behind a bag of cottonballs and some shampoo bottles. He knocks on the door and I swallow hard, calling out to him that I'll be out in a minute. A glance at my watch tells me I still have three to go. God dammit, this is the longest five minutes of my life! Why can't it just be over?! 

He starts rambling to me through the door and I half listen as I get lost in my trance again, glaring hard at the stick on the counter. He's asking if I want to go out to dinner, telling me about some great new restaurant Chad and Bruna went to last night. It figures, too. I'm ready to tear my hair out and he's thinking about food. He doesn't have a care in the world right now and I'm in limbo between life and death. Stupid test, just hurry up and tell me! Look back down at my watch as he moves on to Ron and some funny joke he told this morning, nearly falling down when I see I only have a few seconds left. Silently, I count them down in my head.

30, 29, 28…

There's a press conference tomorrow that he has to be at. He'd really like me to be there for it because it's for the foundation and it's as much my baby as it is his. I yell back that I'm all for it.

20, 19, 18…

Now the dogs are being cute, and oh my god I need to see it! Roxie's playing dead and Maya's trying to see if she's okay. Stupid man, can't you tell I'm having a crisis in here?!

10, 9, 8…

Chan, are you okay in there? No, idiot, I'm not okay! I'm about to have a fucking heart attack and you're going on and on about work and the dogs with no idea at all that I've been cheating on you with your teammate and I'm quite possibly knocked up with his fucking child! I'm as far from okay as I can possibly be right now!

3, 2, 1!

I snatch the test off the counter and flip it over, my eyes going wide at the results.

Oh my God.

Oh…My…God.

Toss it into the trash and fling the door open, attacking my husband before he even knows what's happening. In an instant we're sprawling back onto the bed, kissing more passionately than we have in months. He's obviously caught completely off guard by my advances, not that I blame him. I haven't taken an interest in him sexually in weeks. After a few minutes of an intensely heated make-out session, he pulls away and looks up at me, eyes full of wonder.

"So I take it you'd rather stay in tonight?" He's only half joking but I smile and laugh all the same. Sometimes I forget what a dork he can be. It's one of the things that got me interested in him in the first place.

"Yeah, Jimmie. I'd rather stay in tonight."

Stay in and celebrate an absent pink line.


	6. You and I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Confession was never so difficult.  
> RATING: R for Language  
> CHARACTER: Dale Earnhardt Jr., Chandra Johnson  
> COMPLETED: 07/18/08

_Charlotte, NC  
Hendrick Motorsports_

Even though her face was hidden, concealed by two finely manicured hands, he could still see it. He could sense it in her attitude, see it in her posture, all hunched over and tense. He could see what she was so desperately trying to hide from him. It wasn’t regret. No, far from it. It was panic, worry, a sense of impending doom. No, that last one was just him. The panic and fear were all her, coming off of her in wave after palpable wave. Something had happened, something she didn’t want him to know about. She was keeping something from him, something big, but he didn’t want to push, didn’t want to come off as prying or demanding. For all he knew, he was just reading her wrong. He never had been very good at seeing people for who they really were. It’s why he rarely made new friends. Still though, he couldn’t help the sense of dread creeping up his spine. Something was wrong, something was off. If he could only think of a way to make her open up. If he could somehow break the ice and get her to at least look at him.

The lack of contact between them was what had truly unnerved him. In the months that had passed by, they’d never been able to keep their hands off one another. The moment they were alone together, they were all over each other. This time, she’d walked into his office and sat in the chair across from him. She was dressed modestly, in a sweatshirt and jeans, not one of the scandalous outfits she usually waltzed in wearing. Her hair was pulled away from her face in a sloppy bun and her eyes never once met his. This was not the woman he knew so well. All of her confidence and sex appeal were gone and in their wake was a shell of who she normally was. This woman in his office was scaring the crap out of him. What made it worse was that he was at a total loss for words. How was he supposed to find out what was wrong if he couldn’t figure out how to ask without seeming intrusive?

Another tense minute ticked by before he finally managed to find his voice, looking at her with eyes full of concern, "Chani? Everything alright?" His voice was soft, tender even, afraid to startle her out of the daze she seemed to be in. He wanted badly to put his hand over hers, to find some sort of contact between them, but he was worried it would send her bolting out of the office. As it was, the sound of his voice made her cringe and curl up further into herself, picking nervously at her nails as she worried away on her bottom lip.

"Chandra? Please talk to me…you've got me real worried, darlin'. Is there something you need? Somethin' I can help you with?" Her reaction had unnerved him completely and now he couldn't help himself. The words tumbled from his mouth and he had to know what was wrong. His head was spinning as he watched her unravel before him, coming undone at the seams. Tears slipped from her eyes, wiped away roughly only to have new ones take their place. Her tiny body shook with each quiet sob.

When she finally found her voice, the words that came from her mouth shocked him; socked him hard in the gut, "Junior we can't do this anymore. I can't do this anymore. It…it's over between us. It has to be over." They came out in a jumbled mess of hiccups and sobs, but still her eyes wouldn't meet his. They stayed locked on her hands, wringing nervously in her lap.

"W-what?" He couldn't believe it. The wind had been knocked out of him but he still couldn't believe what she was saying. Over? They were over? What the hell had happened to make her suddenly change her mind about all of this? About them? They had something good, didn't they? Sex with no strings? A fun little relationship, a friendship with the added bonus of mindblowing sex? What the hell had gone wrong? And more importantly, how had he not noticed it before now? A trembling hand came up to run through shaggy red hair, then dragged down over a face tense with confusion. This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't part of the plan.

She finally lifted her bloodshot eyes to meet his, her lower lip trembling as she fought off another wash of tears, "There was a…I…" She pulled in a ragged breath, "I had a scare, Junior."

The words registered slowly in his brain, "…a scare? Y-you mean…did…are you? Did we…" A scare? A pregnancy scare? His heart rate sped up rapidly. Was she pregnant? Had he knocked her up? True they hadn't always used protection, but she'd told him she was on the pill. That was supposed to keep this sort of thing from happening, wasn't it?

"No, Junior. We didn't. There's no…it was a false alarm," She looked relieved once she said the words out loud, but she still couldn't bring herself to say the word "baby", or "pregnant" for that matter. False alarm or not, it was still a terrifying experience, not one she ever wanted to have a repeat of. She's spent a majority of that night in bed with Jimmie, having round after round of mediocre sex. Neither of them had really been all that into it, but she was pretty sure he figured it was what she wanted so he went along with it to make her happy. And then he'd gone and ruined what should have been a good night by finding something he was never supposed to know about.

"Chandra?" Junior looked at her intently, trying hard to read the expression on her face. There was more to the story, he could tell, but he wasn't so sure if he wanted to know what it was. After the confession she'd just made, it couldn't be good.

"Junior…" She swallowed hard, forcing herself not to look away from him, "Jimmie, he…he found the tests. I'd shoved them away in the back of the cabinet…completely forgot about them and he found them. It's been so long since we've had sex, he…sort of put two and two together…he knows there's someone else." Once the confession was out, her eyes returned to her hands, now trembling with fear. Jimmie had been slicker than she'd ever given him credit for. It'd taken him less than five minutes to figure out that she'd been cheating on him. A box of pregnancy tests, with one missing? There was no one she could say she'd been holding them for, not even Ingrid.

Junior's face turned pale, his head spinning uncontrollably. Jimmie knew? Did he know who she was having the affair with? No doubt he was out for blood now, and if he knew who had been fucking his wife all this time, surely he'd come looking for him. He swallowed thickly, "Does he know it's me, Chandra? Did you tell him?" He couldn't really blame her if she had told him. They were married, after all, and Jimmie had a right to know who she was messing around with on the side. Even if she didn’t tell him, it wouldn't be long before he figured it out on his own, anyway.

"No, Dale. I didn't tell him and he doesn't know it was you. Not yet, anyway. He's bound to figure it out on his own if he starts snooping around. I just…you deserved to know. I wasn't going to lie to you. Figured the sooner you knew, the better…" She picked at some already chipped nail polish, chewing on the corner of her lip, "I won't tell him, even if he tries to beat it out of me. I wouldn't stab you in the back like that."

Before he could respond, her cell phone rang, the ringtone growing louder and louder by the second. She cringed and pulled it from the front pocket of her hoodie, flipping it open without checking the ID, "Jimmie…hi…no, I…I'm on my way home right now. I just had to stop-" She frowned, giving Junior an apologetic look as she stood up and made her way to the door, disappearing out of his office without so much as a wave goodbye. As soon as she was out of sight, he slammed his head down on the desk, fingers curling in his hair.

One word managed to fall from his lips.

"Fuck."


	7. Seeing Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Boiling blood and a rising temper lead to disaster.  
> RATING: R for Language  
> CHARACTER: Jimmie Johnson, Chandra Johnson - Jimmie POV  
> COMPLETED: 07/19/08

_Lake Norman, NC  
The Johnson Home_

Ever since I found out about Chandra sleeping with someone else, my mind’s been a complete mess. I want to know – NEED to know – who it is. Need to know what man has been taking my place in our bed. She won’t tell me who and it’s driving me mad. How dare she keep it from me? I’m her husband. I have a right to know who she’s been cheating on me with. I have a right to know whose ass to kick. Don’t I? I mean, I might be partially to blame for this, but fuck!! I’ve been nothing but loyal to her…mostly…so why does she get to make a fool of me? What gives her the right to find comfort in another man? Why couldn’t she just talk to me? We could’ve worked this out; made it right again. But no, she ruined it; ruined us. There’s no going back now; all the trust is gone. I just wish I knew who to go after. God, I want to kill someone. I’ve never been this angry in my life. I’ve been betrayed in the worst way possible. It feels like there’s a knife in my chest.  
I’ve been racking my brain for days trying to solve the mystery on my own. I know who it isn’t, but there’s still so many unknowns. Jeff would never cheat on Ingrid, especially with my wife. Same goes for Chad and Stevie. Casey and Ron are too good of friends to be so cruel, and besides, they have girlfriends of their own. There’s a couple guys on our crews that are single, but Chandra’s never been particularly close to any of them. Why would she hop into bed with some random engine builder or chassis specialist? It doesn’t make any sense. If she were looking for affection from another man, wouldn’t she want to mess around with someone close? Someone she felt comfortable with, someone who would show her the kind of affection she was craving? She wouldn’t get that from a man she barely knew. No, it has to be someone closer than that.  
Of course, there’s no saying it has to be someone from HMS. It could easily be an official that she’s friendly with or another driver. She’s always been close to Clint and he did just break up with Athena…No. No, it’s not Clint. He’s been bed hoping since the second they broke up. Chandra wouldn’t stand a chance of getting even one night from him, let alone weeks of some secret affair. No, it has to be someone else, someone who could give her the kind of time she was obviously getting from the guy she’s been sneaking around with. It’s going to drive me insane if I don’t figure it out soon. Who would have the guts, the balls, to sleep with my wife? What man would throw caution to the wind and bed a married woman? Who has the means to sneak a woman in and out of his home or his office without anyone noticing?   
Oh my god. Oh. My. God. Why didn’t I think of him before? God DAMMIT!  
JUNIOR.  
Dale FUCKING Junior. Of course. He’s the one. It’s GOT to be him. He’s the only one with the balls to do this. It makes so much sense. Why Chandra’s phone is always out of area. All of her little “I got you lunch” visits at the shop. Why he suddenly hangs around with us so much in the coach lot. That bastard. All of this time, he’s been fucking my wife and then hanging around with me like he’s my friend; like he’s my fucking teammate. I can’t believe this. I cannot believe Chandra would have the nerve to have an affair with Junior. It has to be him though. The pieces fit together far too well for it to be anyone else. It’s a well known fact that the cell reception on his land is for shit. He’s the only one with enough privacy to be able to slip someone in and out of the house undetected. And his office. He’s the only one out of all the drivers to have an office in the Nationwide shop…and it’s tucked away in a secluded little corner that no one pays any mind to.  
I shove myself up off the couch and storm upstairs to the bedroom, where Chandra’s been locked away all afternoon. Ever since I found out what’s been going on, she’s been in a funk and were it for any other reason I’d feel terrible seeing her so miserable. She brought this on herself, though, and for that I have no pity. I push the door open, my hands shaking with the rage pumping through my body. I need to keep calm, at least for a little while. I can’t just immediately blow up at her and start screaming and throwing things. The second I raise my voice she’ll go on the defensive and it’ll turn into a boxing match. Chandra’s got one hell of a right hook and it’s not one I want to be on the receiving end of. She looks up at me from her spot on the bed, her eyes bloodshot and her cheeks tearstained from all the crying she’s been doing lately. I can’t decide if the tears are from self-pity, the shame of hurting me, or fear for her new lover. It’s probably a mixture of all three, but I’d put my money on the self-pity over all else.  
“Junior,” I spit his name out like it burns my tongue and she tenses up, sitting up quickly, “It’s fucking Junior, isn’t it. All of this time, you’ve been fucking him behind my back, and I’m an idiot for not realizing. It’s so fucking obvious now. How you hang around him all the time, how you always make sure to stop in to see him after you visit me at work. How your fucking cellphone never has reception when you go out. You’re at his house, in his bed, letting him fuck you.”  
“N-no! Jimmie, no! I-it’s not Junior. It’s not!!” The horrified look on her face gives her away. She can deny it all she wants, but I can see it now, clear as day. Her eyes widen with worry, “Please, Jimmie. Just stop this. Stop trying to figure out who it is and let’s just move on. PLEASE, let’s just move on. I love you, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…this never should have happened…”  
“Begging now, are you? That’s great, Chandra. Why don’t you just get down on your knees for me like you got down on them for him? I mean, you did get down on your knees for him, right? It’s only fitting that you’d let him treat you like the dirty slut you’ve turned out to be. I can’t believe you,” all of the anger bubbling up inside of me finally spills over and I can’t control myself anymore. My hands are shaking at my sides, my entire body trembling with the rage I’ve been trying to keep in check for nearly a week now. I’ve never felt like this before, so betrayed and angry and so inclined to violence.  
“Jimmie! Would you listen to yourself?” She pushes herself up off the bed and glares at me, obviously hurt by my accusations, “If you want to be angry with me, then fine. Be angry. You deserve to be, but don’t you fucking dare start calling me names and saying such terrible things about me! I don’t de-“  
“Don’t even fucking say you don’t deserve it, Chandra,” cut her off and glare back at her just as hard, fighting with all my strength not to shove her back down on the bed and smack her, “The only thing you deserve is a divorce. I loved you, god dammit! I fucking married you, wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, and this is what I get in return? Fuck you. And fuck Junior too. He’ll get what’s coming to him, too. This is far from over, Chandra.”  
I turn quickly and storm downstairs, snatching up my keys on the way to the door. I can hear her behind me, screaming my name and begging me again. Ignoring her as best I can, I stomp out into the garage and climb into my car, peeling out of the driveway. It’s not often I get this fired up and if I don’t go now, I’m not going to get another chance to take a swing at him. If Junior wants to mess around with another man’s wife, he’s going to find out just how heavy the consequences are.


	8. Face to Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: The gauntlet's been thrown, but who’s the bigger man?  
> RATING: R for Language  
> CHARACTER: Dale Earnhardt Jr., Jimmie Johnson, Chandra Johnson - Dale POV  
> COMPLETED: 07/21/08

_Mooresville, NC_

_Dirty Mo' Acres_

 

_“Junior, it’s me…are you there? June…he knows. Jimmie knows. I don’t know how, but he figured it out and…Junior please pick up. He’s…he’s…I’m worried about you, Junior. I don’t know where you are…I don’t know where he went…I…Junior, be careful. I’ve never seen him so angry. Junior if you’re there, please…PLEASE pick up. I…I’m so sorry. It never should have come to this…”_

 

Swallow thickly as I listen to the third of seven messages on my machine. I’d been out for a couple hours; over at Kelley’s to see my nieces for a little while. My phone didn’t ring once, shitty reception, and now I’ve got message after panicked message from Chandra, each one more hysterical than the last. My heart’s beating so fast and so loud I’m sure everyone on the acres can feel it. Not good; this is definitely not good. I knew he’d figure it out eventually, but I wasn’t prepared for it to be this soon. Jimmie’s a better detective than either of us gave him credit for.

_“Junior, you fuck! I can’t believe you, you bastard! Of all the shitty things…of all the women out there, all the fucking skanks throwing themselves at you…you went and fucked my wife?! You’re more of an asshole than I ever imagined, Earnhardt. How **dare** you?! You’re going to pay for this, you son of a bitch.”_

 

Shit. Chani wasn’t kidding about him being angry. I’ve never even heard the man curse before and now he’s throwing out F-bombs like they’re going out of style. He’s got it in for me and I don’t blame him in the least. Every last word he said was true. What I did was unforgiveable, not that I care. I don’t regret a second of it. I only regret him finding out from her and not me. I swear, if he touched even **one** hair on her head…

 

Every hair on my body stands on end when the doorbell rings out through the house. He’s here. Who else would it be? Kelley and Momma have their own keys and the guys never knock anymore. They don’t have to. It rings again and even the ridiculous chimes blaring through the house sound angry. It’s like all his negative energy is channeling into everything he touches. It’s terrifying me. I can hold my own in a fight, but I’d rather it not come to that. Explaining mysterious bumps and bruises on my face is easy enough; everyone knows me and the guys like to get rowdy and box from time to time. Explaining them on me and Jimmie isn’t nearly as simple. Last thing I want is a huge scandal circling around us.

 

By the third ring I know he’s not going away so I take a calming breath and walk out of the kitchen to the front door. It’s near dark out, the little solar lights along the drive and walkway already starting to turn themselves on. I can’t see out on the porch because the light hasn’t clicked on yet but I can see him in my mind, standing on the offensive, ready to pounce on me the second the door opens enough for him to get inside. I start to debate whether I should just ignore him and see if he goes away when he pounds on the front door, screaming in at me.

 

“Dammit Junior, I know you’re in there! Open up the fucking door and face me like a man, you piece of shit!” He bangs harder, the pictures on the walls rattling, “What’s the matter, Junior? You too much of a pussy to come out here and get what you deserve? I’m sure Chandra would love to know what a pathetic excuse for a man she’s been getting on her knees for all this time!”

 

It’s when he mentions Chandra that I finally snap. You can talk about or to me any way you please. I can handle being called names or whatever, but I don’t tolerate anyone talking about a woman like that, especially a woman I care about. I yank the door open, fully prepared to tackle him to the ground but he beats me to it. Before I can even get it open far enough to see him, he kicks it wide open and lunges at me, sending us both flying to the floor. My head slams against the tiles and I grunt as one of his knees makes contact with my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. Shit, this is definitely not going to turn out well, especially if I can’t fucking breathe.

 

Try to gasp for air as he unleashes fist after fist, making contact with my face, my chest, my throat, anything he can reach. Bring my hands up to block what I can, all the while trying to get my wind back. He seems to realize he’s at an advantage and puts more of his weight on me, restricting my lungs even further and I breathe in raggedly, trying with all my might to get even one good breath. It’s when the dogs come flying into the room that I finally manage to squirm out from under him. He jumps to his feet and I manage to pull myself up, gasping as I call them off. It’d be far too easy to let Killer and Stroker tear him to pieces. I grab onto their collars, barely able to hold onto Stroker as he howls and snarls at Jimmie. Killer’s quick to stand at my feet, his eyes trained on Jimmie, his lip twitching to reveal his fangs as he snarls protectively in front of me.

 

“Ain’t smart to come blasting into a man’s house when he’s got dogs that don’t double as rats, Johnson,” Can’t help the smirk that appears on my face at the cheap shot about his pathetic excuse for dogs, “Mine do more than nip at your ankles, and ya sure as hell can’t use mine for field goal practice.” I can feel a trickle of blood at the corner of my lips, another coming from my nose as it throbs dully. He got in a few good blows on me, but I’m not made of glass. This is far from over and we both know it.

 

“Shut the fuck up, Junior. You don’t get to make sarcastic little remarks and act like everything’s okay. Not after what you did,” He glares daggers into me and a chill runs down my spine. I’ve never seen so much hatred in one man’s eyes, “You bastard. What makes you think you have the right to just-“

 

I’m already bored with his “what gives you the right routine” and I let him know it, “What makes me think I have the right to fuck your wife, Jimmie? Oh, I’ll tell you. Chandra gave me the right. She’s the one that let me have her time and time again. Apparently you weren’t fulfilling your obligations as her husband…or her needs, for that matter. Turns out the perfect husband she made you out to be was nothing but an act. Maybe if you were around more and not always out with your fuckbuddies, you’da realized a long time ago that you just weren’t making the cut anymore.”

 

He tenses up and I know he wants to take a couple more swings at me, but with the dogs between us at the ready, he doesn’t stand a chance. It’s cowardly hiding behind them and I know it. Now that I’ve got my wind back, though, I’m ready to have at it with him. Keeping my eyes on him, I back up to the laundry room, forcing the dogs in as they fight to keep watch over the intruder in the front hall. They put up one hell of a fight, but before long I’ve got the door shut and I can hear them whimpering and scratching at it, begging me to let them out. Sorry boys, I have to handle this one on my own.

 

I come back to the front hall at the ready, fully expecting him to come at me again, but he doesn’t make a move. I look him over, trying to decide if he’s faking or not. This is a completely different situation from the one I was in just a minute ago. It’s almost as if he’s calmed down and decided that fighting isn’t the answer. I really hope I’m wrong, because he’s got me looking for a fight and I’m not one to be let down. Ball my shaking hands into fists at my sides, locking my gaze on his. It’s when our eyes meet that I know this is far from finished.

 

“Well? What’re you waiting for, Johnson? Came here for a fight, didn’t you? To defend your pride? I’m all yours, asshole. Either hit me or leave,” If he won’t make the next move, I’ll gladly make it for him. You don’t come into my house, attack me, and then expect to just get away with it, “What’s the matter, Jimmie? Can only hit me when I ain’t expectin’ it?”

 

My last jibe hits a nerve and he dives at me again, only this time I expect it and anticipate his fist. Manage to duck out of the way, but not by much, and come back at him with a left hook of my own. I’m a true southpaw, everything comes from the left, and he seems to have forgotten that because when my fist connects with his face he lets out a surprised yelp before trying to duck back out of the way. Before he’s out of reach I connect with a right jab to the nose and another left in the gut. He gasps and stumbles back, obviously not expecting my boxing skills to be quite as good as they are. Being friends with Arturo Gatti comes in handy during times like this.

 

“C’mon, Jimmie, that all you got? Thought you were looking for a fight!” I move with him, refusing to let him out of reach but refrain from throwing another fist at him. If he wants a fight then I’m going to give him one, but only if he’s swinging back. Ain’t no fun being the only one throwing punches. Ain’t much point in it either, seeing as he’s the one who wanted a piece of me. I smirk softly, wiping away the blood at my lip with the back of my fist as he backs himself into a corner, banging into my piano on the way. He’s got the deer in headlights look now, and it’s taking all the resolve I have not to laugh at him and send him out the door with his tail between his legs. Guess he really ain’t much of a man, after all. At least, not when it comes to defending himself. Guess his Daddy never taught him about the finer things in life, like self defense. Unlucky for him, my Daddy showed me a thing or two.

 

“What’s the matter, Jimmie? Isn’t this what you wanted? Didn’t you come over here to whip my ass for fucking your wife?” Step in closer to him, letting my fists down a little. I’m still on guard, but I want him to at least think he has a chance, “Would it help if I told you she fucking loved every second of it? Loved how I’d bend her over my desk and fuck her, hard and fast, till she was a screaming, coming mess?” I see a spark in his eyes and his body starts to tense but he doesn’t make a move so I keep goading him, “She’s got the sweetest little pussy I’ve ever fucked, too. Mm, and the way she’d scream my name and beg me for more…told me once I’m a far better lay then you could ever dream of being-”

 

Without warning he lets out an animalistic shriek and dives at me, using all of his weight to knock us back to the ground again. Now this is more like it! I expected something like this out of him, so this time there’s no knocking the wind out of me or cheap shots. Every punch he throws at me is met with one of my own, both of us shooting to kill. I manage to hook a leg around his waist and gain some leverage, tossing us over so I’ve got him pinned beneath me. I have to hand it to him, once he’s pissed enough he’s not a half bad fighter. Even as I straddle him and pin him down, he keeps throwing elbows and fists, a few of them even connect. I’m not going to let this go on much longer, though, I’m getting bored and this is quickly becoming pointless. Can’t let him use me as his punching bag all night.

 

In one smooth motion, I swing at his face, cringing a little when I hear as much as feel the cartilage in his nose cracking beneath my fist. He lets out an agonized scream and I jump up off him as he curls into the fetal position, burying his face in his hands. Shit, hadn’t meant to actually break the damn thing, just wanted to daze him a little. Sometimes I swear I don’t know my own strength. I stumble back to my feet and move back a little, watching as he tries to get to his feet. His face is swelling fast and I’m pretty sure he’s going to have one hell of a black eye from an elbow I threw earlier. It’s when I wipe some blood from my own eyes that I realize I’m in about as bad of shape as he is. With the adrenaline flowing freely I barely noticed how hard he was hitting me and I’m almost excited to see what my face looks like.

 

“Oh my god!” A familiar voice in the front hall makes my hair stand on end and I’m afraid to turn around to face its owner.

 

“…Chandra what’re you doing here? You should go, now,” I try to convince her to leave with my back to her but before I can get very far she’s at my side, looking back and forth between Jimmie and I with a horrified expression on her face.

 

“Jesus…Junior, what the hell happened? Jimmie, get up!” She leans down to help her husband to his feet, but he practically sends her into the wall as he shrugs her off and hauls himself up.

 

“Don’t fucking touch me, you bitch!” He wipes his face on his shirt, smearing blood every which way. He glares at her accusingly with his one good eye, his hands trembling at his sides, either from rage or adrenaline; I can’t decide which, “This is all your fucking fault, Chandra. You just had to fuck around with him, didn’t you? Fucking whore.”

 

I take a step toward him, fully prepared to knock the taste out of his mouth for talking to her that way, but a soft hand on my arm stops me. I look over at her, not needing to say a word when my gaze meets hers. It should never have come to this in the first place, there’s no need to make it go on any longer than it already has. She squeezes my arm gently before turning back to Jimmie, her expression hardening as she addresses him, “Jimmie if you fucking talk to me like that again, I swear to God I’ll use you for target practice. Get out of here, now. I’ll come home long enough to pack my stuff and then I’m gone. It’s over.”

 


	9. On the Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Jeff has an epiphany  
> RATING: PG  
> CHARACTER: Jeff Gordon  
> COMPLETED: 08/08/08

_Charlotte, NC  
Hendrick MotorSports_

I don't know what the hell's been going on around here lately, but I know that whatever it is, it can't be good. Chandra mysteriously stopped showing up to the shop; Junior's been coming and going as quickly as possible, never staying longer than necessary; Jimmie's been…well…Jimmie's been a zombie. Something is obviously going on with the three of them, but no one's talking. Not to each other and certainly not to outsiders, myself included. I’ve got the sense to know that something obviously happened between the three of them, but I won’t go out on any limbs just yet. For all I know Junior insulted Chandra somehow and Jimmie went after him for it. Or maybe it was Jimmie who started in with Junior over something and Chandra’s taking Junior’s side. It could be any number of things. It makes my head hurt thinking of all the possibilities. I’ve tried to get Jimmie to talk to me, but lately he’s been avoiding everyone like the plague. The only person I’ve seen him around willingly is Nick. Those two have gotten closer and closer over the years and while it worries me a little, I try not to dwell on it. Jimmie’s a big boy and he can make his own decisions.  
   
Look up when I hear a gentle tapping on my door and smile softly when I see Ingrid and Ella standing in the doorway. She returns my smile and comes into the office, shifting my beautiful baby girl on her hip a bit. She’s out like a light and looking twice as angelic as she usually does. My girls, God I love them. I push myself up from my chair and come around the desk to greet them, kissing first my wife and then my daughter before leaning back against the desk. I wasn’t expecting to see them until I got home so this is a pleasant surprise. Any extra time I get to spend with Ing and Ella is always a blessing. I take Ella to give Ingrid’s arms a break, holding her protectively against my chest. She doesn’t even stir as I stroke her hair and I know instinctively she’ll be out for at least another hour or so.  
   
“So what brings you two all the way over here? I thought you had that "Mommy and Me" swim class this afternoon?” Rock Ella without even really thinking about it as I glance up at Ingrid. She’s wearing a plain pair of jeans and a simple top but even so, she’s gorgeous. Even with her hair in a messy bun and a diaper bag over her shoulder, she’s a goddess.  
   
“We do…or…we did. I got to the pool and she was out like a light,” she looks adoringly at the little girl in my arms and I can see the extra sparkle that’s always there when she’s talking about Ella, “I couldn’t bring myself to wake her up, so I turned around and headed for home, but Chandra called me…” She drifts off and I can’t help the frown on my face. Something’s not right and I can feel it in the air.   
   
Try to play it nonchalant as I shift the baby a little, quirking an eyebrow curiously, “Oh? What’d she have to say?”  
   
She sees right through my act and I’m not surprised in the least. Ingrid’s one of the few people who can read me better than I can read myself, “I’m worried about her, Jeff. I’m worried about the both of them…” The worry creases her forehead and she looks out the window pensively before turning back to me, “She’s staying with Junior, Jeff. She asked me to come meet her over there. I’m starting to think I know what’s been going on, but…”

Chandra’s staying with Junior? On the ACRES? This is definitely far more complicated than I thought it was. This is way more than just a simple fight between she and Jimmie, or Jimmie and Junior. If Chandra’s living with him, then…My eyes go wide as it all finally becomes so crystal clear. All of her visits, all of the time she spent “out with friends” that Jimmie’d never met, all of his time away with Nick…  
   
“They were having an affair. They were having an affair and Jimmie found out,” It comes out as a statement, flat and emotionless, as our eyes lock. I know in an instant we’ve both had the same thought. This is going to get ugly.


	10. Follow Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: The guilt eats at her, but what can she possibly do to make things right?  
> RATING: PG-13 for Language  
> CHARACTER: Chandra Johnson  
> COMPLETED: 08/15/08

There's never been any expectations between us, throughout all of this. We knew where we stood and that was that. It was a fun time to be had, it was me and him enjoying one another's company and sexual prowess. We knew it was all about the sex and the physical relationship we shared. It was about having some fun and sharing a couple laughs in between rounds of mind blowing sex and all the thrills that came with it.

…until now.

How it all came down to this is beyond me. One second we were having a fun little affair and the next thing I know I'm filing for divorce and living with him while my husband is off with his ex-boyband-fuck-buddy. My life is severely screwed up and I have no one to blame but myself for all of it. I let Junior in my pants. I enjoyed every second of it, every single time.

So then why do I feel so fucking guilty about all of this? Why does it eat at me day and night that I've finally gotten what I wanted?

Well, fuck, that's easy.

This isn't what I wanted.

What I wanted was selfish. I wanted to have my cake and eat it, too. For a while, I did. I had my perfect husband and our perfect little marriage and a decent sex life. Then Junior came along and suddenly I wanted some fun on the side and he was more than willing to provide it. I never wanted the two sides of the coin to meet. I never thought that they would. When it all came crashing down that day, I knew I had to make a decision and I've second guessed myself every second since.

It became clear within minutes that Junior and I would never be anything more than friends with benefits. The thought of us being in an actual relationship baffled us both. He's far too frat-boy for me and I'm way too old for his taste in girlfriends. And while he enjoys playing with them, my breasts are about a quarter the size of the ones he usually goes for. Not to mention that aside from a decent shot with a hunting rifle, we have nothing in common. No, couple material we certainly are not. 

I'm no fool. I know Junior took me in because he feels guilty and responsible for me. He knows as well as I do that we both did this and it wasn't a one sided conversation. He's been a trooper through all of this, doing everything he can to make me feel welcome in his home. A home he and I both know will never be "ours". I've debated going home several times already, but seeing as Jimmie refuses to answer his phone, I have no way of knowing where the hell he is. It was risky enough going back there to gather up some of my things while I knew for sure he was at the shop.

Daytona is looming over our heads, quickly creeping up on us and I don't know what the hell to do with myself. I have to be there, if for nothing else than pretending that everything is okay. So far we've all been able to keep this in our tight little love triangle. I'm not even sure if Nick totally understands the severity of the situation. For all I know, Jimmie told him nothing. The last thing we need is for the other drivers to find out. Or the fans, for that matter. The minute the wrong person finds out, it's going to spread like wildfire and then we'll be totally fucked. How bad is it going to look when people find out that Jimmie Johnson's wife spent the off season fucking his new teammate? I doubt they'd consider it my "welcoming" him to the family.

I don't know what I was thinking, calling Ingrid. I panicked and had a moment of weakness and before I could stop myself I was babbling to her about needing someone to talk to and suddenly I was telling her to meet me at Junior's house because I haven't been living at home for a couple days, now. She sounded shocked and surprised, but not completely. There was an edge in her voice, like she's known all along that something was up with Jimmie and I but she just couldn't put her finger on what exactly it was. My phone call must have clarified things for her in an instant.

Pace back and forth impatiently on the front porch of his house, waiting for Ingrid's car to come rolling up the driveway. I'm not even sure if she and Jeff have even been here before. Junior and Jeff have a relationship, yes, but it never seemed like the "come race karts on the acres" type. They were never really close outside the track, from what I could tell. I start to gnaw on my nails, a nasty habit I kicked years ago, but has recently come back with a vengeance. It's either chew my nails or take up smoking, and I'm pretty sure fingernails won't give me some sort of terrible disease. Junior, on the other hand, has decided that smoking a pack of Marlboro Reds a day is the best cure for his nerves. I've decided not to mention his sudden impression of a chimney. We all have our vices, who am I to judge?

My heart skips a beat when I see a car rolling up to the house, and skips two more when I see Ingrid in the driver's seat. She's come alone, not even Ella with her, which means she's more than likely told Jeff where she was going. Fuck, what the hell was I thinking?! I can't believe I'm dragging an outsider into all of this. The last thing we need is for Jeff to go running to Jimmie, trying to patch us up. Jimmie's never going to forgive me as it is, I can only imagine how much angrier it's going to make him when he realizes that I've blabbed to Jeff and Ingrid about my indiscretions. 

"Chani? Aw, Chani, what's wrong? What happened?" It's only when Ingrid's arms wrap me in a warm embrace that I realize I've been crying since before she showed up. I'm so numb I can't even feel the tears falling from my eyes anymore. I cling to her, my body trembling as sob after sob escapes my throat, babbling into her shoulder about what a fool I am. I'm sure most of it doesn't even make sense to her, but it feels so good to get it out, even if she can't understand what's going on quite yet. She will though. As soon as I can compose myself, I'm going to come clean about all of it. I can't do this alone anymore. I need someone to help me get my mess of a life back together.

I want my husband back.


End file.
